The Price of Victory
by keystone
Summary: Winning means survival. Loss means extinction. Can they pay the price of victory?
1. Orders

The Price of Victory

A Fanfiction by Keystone

Disclaimer: Nothing of the Halo universe is my property. The seven rings, forerunners, various races, UNSC, Spartans, and all the technology and ships within are products of Bungie. All those, except for what you know to be mine.

Author's Note: Well, for those of you diligent to me, I have written Halo stories before. Good luck finding them, however. This time around, I believe I have come up with something truly remarkable. I hope you all enjoy.

Eyes Only:

Mission Clearance required

From: UNSC Admiral Matthew Carone

To: All UNSC and Convert personnel assigned to Operation Charon

Gentlemen, the war has reached a turning point. We have new allies and a resolved force. The remaining Covenant hostiles have been stranded and left confused. Now is the time to launch a decisive offensive against them, and take back what is ours: survival. Our fleets are strong. Our numbers are legion. Our will is unbreakable. We shall not be denied. Rise, soldiers of the human race, and push back the aggressors with all the might of your species. May God bless you on your journey and grant you the power to crush the Covenant.

End Transmission

Eyes Only:

Briefing details and orders

From: AI Lajon

To: All UNSC and Convert personnel assigned to Operation Charon

For those of you who have been under rocks for the last few weeks, this is the scoop: The Covenant has broken. After discovering the full extent of the Prophets betrayals, the Elites, supplemented by the Grunts and the Hunters, staged an all out rebellion and defected from their former masters.

Switching their title to the Converts, they, under the direction of the Elite known as the "Arbiter", have decided to join our cause with the intent of crushing the Prophets, and their Brute allies. The alliance is on the terms of common enemies, and they have agreed to a complete cease fire between their forces and ours. We all will be able to benefit from this unity, and should we defeat the remaining Covenant forces, continued peace will be assured.

Since the appearance of the Ark over the Earth in the last stand battle six months ago, we have had more time to build up our fleets again and raise our armies from the ashes. When approached by the Elites with their offer, we accepted. Thanks to some very careful negotiations overseen by Sergeant Major Avery Johnson, the Arbiter agreed to lend his, and therefore the full scope of the Convert army, to ours. Our goal now is to locate both the renegade Ark, and the remaining five Halo rings. Once we can locate either of the Ark, we can capture the Prophet of Truth and force the fight on our terms. Should we manage to discover the final rings, we can remove their threats by retrieving each respective Index and disabling their fire controls.

Now the tides have turned, and the Covenant now has to fight against a force of equal might and numbers. And we have the advantage of the full rage of the Elites to complement our warriors. The fleets have been bolstered, and the troops have been stirred. Like a roaring fire we shall sweep across the stars and purge them of this great evil, and remove their threat once and for all.

Under UNSC command, I have prepared a list for all in the fleet regarding the chain of command and new battlefield procedures. You would all do well to pay close attention and commit this doctrine to memory.

Operation Charon Fleet Chain of command:

_Frost of Ages_: Fleet flagship, and Convert controlled. This seven kilometer dreadnaught has combated whole Brute fleets on its own. She and her Ship Master are forces to be feared.

_Iron Respite_: Human forces central command ship. Nine kilometers long and bristling with power, she is a beast of unrivaled destruction.

_Searing Templar_: Six kilometers of Convert Carrier housing the most battle hardened Convert warriors, it has tactical command of thousand of individual aces.

_Donalbain_: This seven kilometer cruiser is home to human fleets primary nuclear arsenal. Containing enough high explosive nuclear technology to crack worlds, she is the fist of the fleet.

_Rainmaker_: Home of the two Spartans assigned to the fleet, and a legion of special forces soldiers, this four kilometer destroyer will drop down on the Covenant and wash them away.

_Undaunted_: A fearless captain with a reckless reputation is the brain of the two kilometers of might in this ship. Always on the front lines, her and her crew will never back away form a fight.

_Fields of Gold_: An unusual craft, this Elite stealth recon vessel is the smallest Convert capitol ship, but a specific mission keeps it well away from the front.

_Orion's Arrow_: An interceptor destroyer, this fast attack platform is always at the right place to lend a hand.

In total, this fleet is comprised of 43 separate ships, with 14 being Human and 29 being Convert. The primary purpose of mixing the types of craft is to maximize firepower. As plasmatic weaponry is very good at disabling shielding, it will be common procedure for Convert craft to bombard an enemies fleet with plasmatic torpedoes and then for the Human craft to attack with precision sniping using Magnetic Acceleration Cannons. Of course the Convert craft will continue to fire after shielding has been destroyed to continue to maximize damage. By the nature of plasma batteries and their unlimited ammunition, they will comprise the bulk of the heavy weapons, whilst the extremely high velocity MAC rounds possess the superb ability to cause physical damage once a hit is assured.

Conversely, the human fleet will be carrying a large number of nuclear ordnance. A remotely fired and detonated nuclear weapon will overload several enemy ships shielding simultaneously. After which a wave of plasma can just burn through the enemies craft.

Each Human vessel carries a sizeable number of rounds for their primary MAC cannon, with the average frigate holding 47 heavy rounds, and a number of pods containing thirty or more Archer missiles. Each ship will also have a variety of other weapons, such as 50mm auto-cannons, mine dispensers, and others. However, due to the ballistic nature of human weaponry, only a limited store of ammunition can be maintained. Two human factory and mining ships will join in this fleet to keep up the production and shipping of explosive and ballistic shells. Primarily, Convert craft handle the most intensive fighting and human craft doing sniping and providing fire support.

In a noncombatant role, several repair and refit craft with schematics for all the ships in the fleet will join them to provide essential services.

As always, it is extremely important that Convert Ship Masters and Human commanders keep their systems linked through AI and computer coordination. Firing on friendly craft is quite the bad idea, and casualties due to it and totally unacceptable.

Order of Battle Protocol:

As stated above, Convert craft have tactical command of space engagements and take priority roles. Human craft will remain in the center of formations until the engagement is over or retreat is completed. Once ship to ship combat has been completed, however, Human commanders will assume command of ground combat.

In ground conflicts, our forces will deploy the Grunts, Hunters, Elites, and Marines under our command. Additionally, we will also deploy armor, fixed heavy munitions, and air support. The sole purpose of this combined effort is to insure complete and total victory.

High Command has gone through all of our combined assets and has designed specific mission parameters for each aspect of our infantry. They have looked over the abilities and individual uses for all of the types of soldiers and have presented this mission scheme:

Grunts shall form the core number of any assault. With ferocity in numbers, they will excel at rushing attacks and charges, and will be able to absorb enemy fire while still throwing their whole might at them.

Human infantry will work best as shock troopers. Lightning fast insertions and a tenacious combat style for all assaults will provide many opportunities for them to harm the Covenant. Additionally they are quite good at securing and holding ground with superior discipline and tactical intelligence.

Elite warriors will fill similar roles as Human soldiers, but with a wider scope of acceptable missions. Their greater physical resilience and agility will give them a greater opportunity on the field of battle to live longer and do more damage. Capable of many tasks and battlefield duties, the Elites will be deciding soldiers in many battles to come.

Hunter pairs are going to fill a very important mission role in our fight. Essentially highly mobile artillery that comes in twos, the Hunter pairs will be deployed in large numbers to facilitate crushing any opposition. They will function in situations where bringing in heavy armor is prohibitive, such as in clearing hot landing zones and other situations. Their amazing toughness and ability to destroy is an invaluable asset. Additionally they have shown themselves to be resistant to the Flood.

Notes on Flood combat:

Due to the fact that much of our operations will take place on the Halo rings, combat with the Flood is a matter of when, instead of if. Because of the extreme nature of the Flood meta-organism, very strict protocol must be enforce when they are encountered. These are in place to prevent the Flood from capturing and killing personnel and securing vehicles and ordnance. If followed, they should provide the most effective means of surviving encounter with them.

The forces deployed on the ground in the area where the Flood has been discovered is to immediately sterilize their area by way of fire and call for an immediate evacuation. All soldiers who have survived are to rewarded and then removed from active combat to be screened for Flood spores. Following that, a joint combat force will be sent to the location with three primary objectives.

The first objective is to finish the primary goal of the previous groups mission as quickly as possible. Unless the Flood infestation or hostile forces are to great, they should be able to proceed to the objective and secure it with relative ease.

The second objective is to exterminate any and all Flood forms they encounter. This means burning all discovered bodies of dead allied soldiers as well. Converted Flood forms must also be burned or severed of all limbs as well. This is all to prevent the Flood from securing any kind of offensive measures.

The third, and most important objective of this force is to locate the library of the installation and secure the Index. This must happen as swiftly as possible to prevent hostile Covenant forces from locating the Index and then firing the Halo. If they are allowed to do this, then all living things will perish.

When pursuing the Index, or simply in anti-Flood operations, all soldiers must meet specific requirements. They must possess either full body shielding, like the Elites, or full body covering vacuum sealed armor, similar to the Mjolnir armor worn by the Spartans. These combat teams must also consist of at least two members. These soldiers are also responsible for their own lives and equipment. If imminent capture or death by the Flood is likely, then the soldier must accept the duty to take his own life with a bullet to the brain or similar injury. If a hosts nervous system is destroyed, then the Flood organism is not capable of using it as a Flood form.

Once the Index has been recovered, all attention must be placed on exfiltrating it from the surface of Halo. It shall be placed under the highest security and then held in the center of the fleet. If it appears that it will be soon captured by enemy hands, it must be destroyed.

If captured, then the strongest soldiers will be assigned to go and retake it immediately, while heavy infantry support is placed in the control room to defend it from the attackers. Failing all this, if the Halo is about to be fired, then the ring must be destroyed. All Flood spores are to be burned into ashes and all hostiles should join them. Care should be taken to capture the Monitor of the installation, as having it will speed the process of locating and retrieving the Index.

General Notes:

All soldiers are o be reminded that when on Halo, nothing is ever secure. The entire ring is a combat zone and thus all necessary precautions will be taken. No area is totally safe unless within an established and manned friendly base. Even still, be prepared at all times. The only truly secure ground is the ground you're standing on.

If possible, always travel in groups of at least two, and never go anywhere unarmed. Above all, never move alone. It is better to die in numbers under enemy guns than to alone be ravaged by the parasite.

Stay vigilant for Prophets, be they the Prophet of Truth, or even lesser ones, capture them if possible, but kill them otherwise. Enemy Drones and Jackals may be captured if they surrender, but all Brutes are to be slaughtered. None can be allowed to live.

In non combat situations, Humans and Converts will instruct each other on how to properly use each others various technology. Marines will teach Converts how to use and care for Human ordnance, and Convert soldiers will do the same. Basic vehicle instruction will also be taught all soldiers. However, only certain Elites and Humans will be taught to use specific pieces of equipment. Only Humans of Corporal rank or higher will be taught to pilot a Banshee or a Wraith, and Humans of Sergeant rank will be instructed on using a Scarab. And only Major Elites of red armor will be taught to use the mighty Scorpion tank. And only the Spartans will be shown by the Zealots how to wield the awesome plasma sword.

Due to the lack of serviceable Human spacecraft, a sizeable portion of their soldiers will make bunk in Convert ships. They shall be given position and status equal to their new brothers, and all will be invaluable in the fight against the Covenant.

End brief.

Remember, this mission is to remove the threat of the remaining rings. If you fail, then all sentient existence will vanish. I will be the primary AI for this fleet, but the actual completion of it is up to you. Good luck, and remember that all life in the galaxy hinges on your success.

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Author's note: Well, okay, that is the first chapter. For those who need a little bit of help, this takes place after Halo 2, and in place of whatever storyline Bungie has developed for number three. The real action and story itself will commence in the next chapter. I hope you all will enjoy this and find it a thrilling read. Peace out!!


	2. Hostiles Inbound

The Price of Victory

A Fanfiction by Keystone

Disclaimer: I own only what you know to be mine

Author's note: Ok, chapter two, well, actually, chapter one. Anyways, this is where the action begins, so you can all sit back and relax. And I noticed a serious typo in the previous chapter. There will be 43 ships, not 49 in the fleet, I tried to correct it, but in case it does not work, there should be 43, not 49. Okay, enjoy the read.

Hostiles Inbound

"Shit!" Private McClosky _had_ just used his last grenade, and no matter of checking would bring it back. So he picked up his rifle and kept on firing, hoping to score some lucky shots before he bit it. Well, maybe he could take a few Brutes with him.

A small clearing on the forest floor held this Marine and a few others while they held the fight of their lives. Their line was thin and bodies made several protective barricades. Of the two platoons holding this region, only eight men remained. Luckily, they had the advantage of a Spartan. A useful advantage under any circumstances.

Normally, McClosky would have loathed working with the half machine, all alien humans. But today, his death had been prolonged just a little longer because of one. Of course, over on the left flank, his survival was not a thing to be guaranteed.

No matter, he thought to himself, and resumed firing. Aiming low, knowing the tendency of his SMG to kick upward while firing, he made his presence known. So many bodies filled his view of the battlefield, and most of them wore issue-green. It made his heart hurt to see so many of his slain comrades. Every imaginable form of death, and strewn in all possible locations, the massive quantities of them covered the ground in the tiny clearing.

Cursing the cause of it all, he braced himself as one of the many Brutes in front of him hurtled through the air and landed right on top of him, Brute Shot blade first. He barely had time to process the thought of damning the creature before he died.

Next to him, a PFC hurled a grenade at the beast in panic, and then fired his SMG as the bomb detonated at the shocked hulks feet. With a wet thud, the bullet riddled form fell to the ground, covering Private McClosky in a gory blanket.

Turning back to face the swarm of furry horrors in front of him, the PFC caught a glimpse of red plasma lancing towards him. Reacting quickly, he dropped to the ground and covered his head as the flurry of super heated gas sizzled against the wooden barricade and over him. His natural instincts for survival kicked in and he cradled himself against the hard walls of the shelter, and whimpered into his hands.

A sudden buzzing in the air caused this man to look up and locate their source. Phantoms he saw, two of them, coming in low over the treetops, fast and sleek with their cannons glowing red.

"Chief, there's two Phantoms coming in behind us!! We're screwed, sir!!" The marine ran next to the armored titan next to him and pleaded for his attention. Thinking they were for sure about to be totally overrun from both sides, the Marine could only look at his Chief in despair.

"I know, Marine. They're friendlies. Here, keep fighting." The Master Chief replied to the shocked young man, tossing him a SMG while he continued firing on the group of Brutes advancing on his position. One of his shots seemed to be guided by God, and struck a Brutes bandolier, igniting and detonating his store of grenades. The ensuing explosion wiped out the few Brutes unlucky enough to be standing next to him.

The Marine looked wide-eyed back at the Chief, who just kept firing on the rapidly advancing squad.

Behind the rapidly faltering, thin line the Phantoms came to an abrupt stop and hovered a few feet off of the ground. They fired their three plasma batteries each and killed six of the attacking Brutes instantly. Then, as the remaining alien gorillas dove for cover a contingent of Elite Converts dropped down, weapons ready.

The startled Marine watched as the usual blue and red armored warriors drifted down the gravity lifts. Then with awe watched as a pair of SpecOps elites, their white commander, and even a mighty golden Zealot. These were the finest warriors in the Covenant army before it split, and now here they are, ready to fight and die for the human's cause. He naturally was suspicious of them at first, and still felt all the resent towards them for nearly eradicating his whole species, but for now, he was grateful for their timely arrival.

Behind them, and known only to the Master Chief, one other Spartan dropped down after the last Elite exited the ship. One of the three who was not on board the Pillar of Autumn's ill fated journey. The Spartan's third in command, under Fred, and recently promoted to his rank. Senior Chief Petty Officer Spartan 346.

The 16 total Elites ran to the shattered human line and vaulted over it, firing their plasma rifles and carbines into the Brute ranks as they regrouped and charged. Many fell dead before they could even bring their own weapons to bear under the plasma and radioactive slug downpour.

But the two SpecOps Elites, their leader, and the Zealot each brandished the most fear inspiring weapon in their arsenal: the mighty energy sword. The crisp, flattened fields of plasma could take fully armored soldiers out of this realm and could even cut apart the battle armor on mighty armored vehicles.

With these awe inspiring weapons held ready the four of them rushed the freshly trounced Brute group of five. Roaring challenges into the remnants of the squad the three black and white Elites swiftly cut down two of them, sending their bodies crashing to the ground in bloody, tangled heaps. They then stepped aside as the final three Brutes squared themselves, their Brute Shots turned upright so the wicked blades slung underneath faced out.

When the three Elites stepped aside, they revealed to the Brutes the real threat. Their golden captain. In all of his honor and glory, he waded in between his warriors and faced the three Brutes before him. Raising his blade in challenge to them, he growled out his intentions and the Brutes replied in kind.

The Brute in the head of the formation rushed him, his weapon held high over his head and with the intent to slam it down on the Zealot's helmet and crush him to dust. Running full speed towards him he abandoned his inherent agility for power and slammed his hands down at the last second.

Watching him rush to him, the Zealot held his ground and waited until the last moment and then tensed his legs and pushed to his left. Springing to the side he dodged the heavy handed strike and flicked his wrist around and shoved, hard. The strength of his arms pushed the blade clear through the Brutes chest. To finish him off the Zealot then calmly slashed to his left and pulled the weapon out from under the Brutes right arm.

Staring down the other two Brutes, the Zealot stood ready as the two Brutes watched their captain fall to the ground a gory mess. Then abandoning their weapons, both charged the Zealot head on, preparing to crush him under the sheer weight of their massive muscles.

As his rank would indicate, the Zealot was no coward, and he did not shy away from this confrontation. He met their charge with one of his own and kept eye contact with the enemy the whole while. His Elites under him roared their approval of this fight and their commander as he fought the Brutes face to face, with honor as his weapon.

The first Brute swung a massive fist at the nimble fighter's head and was greeted with an unexpected event. The Zealot ducked under the raging swing, and dug his shoulder into the Brutes midsection. The force of the Brutes momentum carried him up and over the Zealot and sent him crashing down to the ground.

In his moment of disorientation, the Zealot seized the initiative and stomped on the Brutes chest to prevent him from rising and then staked him to the ground by way of plasma sword through his neck.

Witnessing his final surviving teammate die, the last Brute went into a blind berserker rampage. He stomped at the ground, pounded the earth with his fists, and grunted as he rushed the Zealot. Not even thinking logically, he blindly charged with the intent of total revenge and decimation.

Ready and waiting, the Zealot ran towards him and ducked low under a wicked right hook. He grabbed the scruff of the Brutes left leg and slid himself behind the Brute. With the speed and agility of the wind he hopped up on the massive beasts' shoulders and stabbed straight down. Piercing his spine, the blade came right out of him as quickly as it went in and the Zealot wielding it shoved off the Brute, pushing him to the ground, dead, and landing in a perfect stance.

When the last Brute fell, and as the Elites howled in victory, the Senior Chief moved up next to the Master Chief and reported in.

"Sir, Senior Chief Petty Officer 346 reporting, sir!" He snapped a crisp salute and took his stance of attention while the Master Chief turned and returned the gesture.

"At ease. What can you tell me, Michael?"

"All that you can handle, sir. First off, a little present from Sergeant Johnson." He opened a large satchel he had slung over his shoulder. He took the large black sack off and set it on the ground and stooped with the Master Chief to examine its contents.

The Senior Chief pulled out what appeared to be a standard Battle Rifle at a quick glance, and tossed it to the Master Chief. Giving a low whistle, he held it and turned it around in his hands, getting a feel for the new weapon. "What exactly is this, Mike? Other than very nice."

"Sir, that is the new special edition BR120 Spartan Rifle. Sergeant Johnson made a comment to Admiral Hood that Spartan soldiers deserved Spartan weapons. Said everything just looked puny in our hands." They laughed and the Senior Chief tossed his superior a magazine.

"These new models are roughly thirty percent larger and heavier, and feature some useful new gear. For example, the old Battle Rifle has a standard two time zoom ability, but this model features up to a five time zoom capacity.

"Additionally, it holds a 72 round magazine, and can fire on full automatic, three to five round bursts, or single shots. All selectable via the neural network between your armors computers and the weapons internal computers. The slugs themselves are higher caliber, but only two millimeter larger. She packs a nice punch and works well in just about every situation. Johnson was rather proud of it." The Senior Chief explained.

Walking back to a series of crates dropped by the Phantoms, the SC continued to give the Master Chief the intel he had. "We also thought it may be a good idea to bring in some ammo and supplies for the Marines here, but looks like we brought equipment for a group of troops, but now we could probably just send most of it back."

"Marines, come and re-equip yourselves! There's no telling when the Covenant will be back." The Master Chief yelled out to the surviving human soldiers. He himself grabbed some frag grenades and refilled his empty storage bins.

On their way to pick up some much needed ammo and supplies, a few of the Marines stopped to converse with the Elites, and swapped a few jokes amongst themselves. One just stared at the Zealot, mouth agape, and looked back and forth between him and the fallen Brutes.

Naturally, they refilled their ammo rucks and grabbed some fresh MRE's before taking the much needed time to grab some relaxation. They had to have a few minutes to just sit and enjoy the temporary peace to its fullest. Their numbers bolstered, and in the presence of some truly amazing warriors did wonders to calm them.

The Senior Chief activated his helmet's com line and gave a few orders, and a squad of five Grunts deployed from the bay of the Phantoms, each carrying one of the Converts portable rapid fire plasma turrets.

The five green armored minuscule aliens moved to the two Spartans, who were now joined by the Zealot, and saluted. Their pack leader stepped forward and spoke his commands to his new leaders.

"Excellencies, we are ready to deploy. Where would you have us make ready?" He spoke loud and clear for such a small soldier. His squad was going to e used to set up a perimeter defense grid, and they were known as being quite the shots with their automatic cannons.

"I want you to set yourselves up in a rough pentagon around the line. Set yourselves up at the various locations that you individually see fit as the most fortified, and don't limit your fields of fire. I want at least two guns being able to target any Covenant who enters this zone." The Master Chief directed the Grunt squad. "We may be here for some time"

The Senior Chief turned to his superior and spoke through an encrypted channel. "Excuse me sir, but I believe we should stay mobile. There is a large installation about fifteen miles from here that is of some strategic value. I think we ought to try to retake it from the Covenant. My original mission was to come here, reinforce you and these platoons, and then retake the installation with your help."

"Who all is at this facility?" The Master Chief inquired.

"A number of Marines, and plenty of Convert soldiers. They were taking a Forerunner center and attempting to turn it into an air base and mission command center. Intel gave me figures of almost seven hundred friendly personnel holed up inside it." Answered the Senior Chief.

The Master Chief linked his com with the AI Lajon aboard the Iron Respite, and had this information transferred into his systems. Confirming it, he also noticed the large amount of Covenant warriors around it. The entire center was crawling with Covenant soldiers desperately trying to reclaim the Forerunner ruin for their Prophets.

"It looks heavily guarded. Intel shows over a thousand Covenant infantry, including armor and close air support. Battalion strength or more. We'd need some reinforcements if we plan on taking it back. I'd say the best option is wait, but we can hardly handle this with just the two of us."

"Agreed, but I have an idea," the Master Chief said. He turned and headed over to where the white Ultra Elite and the two black SpecOps soldiers were.

Turning to recognize him, they stood and took a defensive formation, the Ultra up front with the two SpecOps in a "V" formation behind him.

"What is it, Demon?" The Ultra spoke, obviously still showing his former religious fear and hatred of the former scourge of the Elites.

"We have an operation in mind, but it will require you and your special forces to accomplish." The Master Chief replied, ignoring the term.

"What sort of mission do you have for us, human?" The Ultra inquired, his interest piqued.

"An infiltration. Covert movement and hard insertion. We plan to rescue some trapped soldiers and engage an entire Covenant battalion. You and your Elites expertise will be very handy."

Turning and facing both of his black armored soldiers, the Ultra faced the Master Chief again and nodded. "Very well, we shall accompany you on your mission."

The Master Chief looked at the rest of his men, the Elites and Grunts preparing defensible positions and his remaining Marines restocking and making themselves ready to hold ground. They would have to stay behind and ensure their landing zone would be kept and to keep the him and his team from being overrun from behind.

"They'll be fine, sir. With the Zealot leading them they will fight harder and more efficiently." He looked over his shoulder at his Spartan brother, and new he was right.

"Gear up then, we'll be leaving shortly."

He himself grabbed one of the newer rifles the Senior Chief brought with him and two hand fulls of magazines, then secured a sniper rifle and several clips of ammunition and stowed them in his ammo slots, and slung the rifle across his back.

The Senior Chief also grabbed one of the new rifles and a similar number of magazines and slug it over his shoulder. He then grabbed himself an M90 Shotgun and fed shells into his armors vault like ammo slots. A few grenades later he was all prepped and ready to move out.

The Ultra and his Elites stowed their blades, and withdrew their own personal weapons of choice. The Ultra withdrew a beam rifle and primed it, then moved to face the Chief. The two black elites drew out a carbine and a plasma rifle, respectively, then moved as well next to their commander.

The Chief took the opportunity to go and brief the Zealot of his upcoming mission, and he was understanding and took charge of the rest of the soldiers in the field. The Chief knew that as long as this capable warrior was present on the field, then things would stay green.

Facing the line of four soldiers, the Master Chief walked across them giving each of them a specific designation. "Blue two," he stopped at the Senior Chief, "Three," the Ultra, "Four," the carbine wielding Elite, "And five," at the plasma rifle holding Elite. "I will be designated Blue one."

"Move out!" He shouted to his troops and turned to face the woods behind him. One by one the five disappeared into the trees.

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Hope you all enjoyed chapter two. It was quite fun to write, and longer than I anticipated. I had to cut the amount of action in half of what I originally wanted when I saw how long it was. Oh well, you'll just get the second installment of it in the next chapter. Well, until then, keep on reading and making this fun!!!


	3. Forced Entry

The Price of Victory

A Fanfiction by Keystone

Disclaimer: I do not own Halo, nor the Bungie mythos.

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, but now I plan to continue it. I am certain that it will continue to entertain.

Forced Entry

The Master Chief and blue team humped through the forest for almost half an hour, following carefully encrypted broadcasts from Lajon. There was no rain, for which the Master Chief was annoyed. The fairly common rain provided a natural screen to movement and made engagements much trickier. Especially for defenders, who have the task of finding where the hail of gunfire is coming from before they themselves are shot down.

Luckily, they had not encountered any resistance. The Chief found it odd considering how hot the planet was in orbit and in this local area. Given that Covenant forces were trying to take a human controlled installation, and that it was widely known that he and a squad of high ranking Elites were very close by. His finger rested lightly on the trigger, absent mindedly tugging on it, the weapons' safety catching it before it fired.

Walking along his right flank, the special forces Elites carefully observed their surroundings. Hungry for battle, and weary of the humans alongside them, they focused on the task at hand.

Stepping close to his commander, blue four leaned in next to him. "Leader, these Humans act with such impertinence. They believe _they_ are in charge. We are Sangheili. For years we slaughtered these vermin. Why take orders from them now?"

"Why don't you stop yammering and pay attention? For all that they have done to us, they show us no hostility now. Even if we hate them, we will work together. And you will follow orders." The SpecOps commander replied to his subordinate.

"Kire, your temper is on your sleeve. You should watch yourself before they introduce you to Heaven." Blue four whispered to his teammate, an air of humor surrounding his words.

"Hmph, for now, Paskil, for now."

"Our ears are better," Michael replied, "Such comments are noted." He said as he continued his advance.

Momentarily halting, the Black Elite, Kire, watched the Spartan. His eyes narrowing, he resumed his march.

From nearby, sounds of battle drifted to the Spartan's position. Muffled explosions, the shrill whine of plasma, and low rumbles of automatic weapons wafted through the air, mingling with the normal atmosphere.

"We're close. Stay out of sight and keep your eyes peeled." The Master Chief stalked the wooded area to an unnoticed place. A small rise in the ground, surrounded by the thick jungle plant life. Moving to the spot, got on his belly and crawled forward under the brush, and saw the installation they were looking for.

A colossal building, partly extending over a cliff-face, was being assaulted from all directions.

A brace of older Shade cannons fired into a massive chasm, presumably a hangar door. Squads of Jackals, shields ready, advanced on numerous doors and access hatches, closely followed by Brutes. A troupe of Drones swarmed the roof, and two Banshees were busy harassing the hanging section's outer defenders.

From his vantage point, he zoomed in and watched the purple fliers rain plasma down on the machine gun turrets, setting the Marines crewing them on fire as soon as the superheated blasts detonated their ammo containers.

Zooming out, and fuming at the loss of allied life, the Master Chief watched the battle below him and spotted a likely entrance. There was a doorway, where a small group of Jackals tried to force their way in. Almost immediately, two Brutes rushed to them, urging them forward. Out of the dark space, two emerald blasts erupted forth, and obliterated the attackers.

He noticed a pile of smoldering debris outside the entry, and upon closer inspection realized it was actually dead Covenant bodies. An idea formed in his head as he watched the bodies burn.

"Commander, come here." He turned briefly to call the White Elite forward. Grunting at the order, he reluctantly walked to the Spartan, his two Elites still in their positions, scanning for enemies.

"Yes, Human?" The Ultra Elite inquired.

"See that hatchway? I watched a squad of Covenant soldiers get destroyed by some fuel rod shots. If we can get to that door, we can enter the station, an possibly even garner some Hunter assistance."

"Your plan is sound, Human. But how will we make it there without drawing every enemy down on us? Unless that is in your plan, as well?" He added, condescension clouding his words.

"You and I each carry sniper rifles. We will provide cover while your Elites and my Spartan make their way down. Take out some gunners and give them a clear path. From there, they can cover us as we run to them." He said through his armors external speakers, so that the entire team can hear his idea.

Considering his words, the Ultra dropped to one knee, and brought the beam rifle to bear. "Warriors, make ready. Let us kill some of the foes and then get to that door with all speed."

Unslinging his sniper rifle, the Master Chief signaled the Senior Chief to do the same. He then went prone, lying on his stomach and took a firing position. Not the sniper his fellow Spartan sister Linda was, he was nonetheless quite competent with the weapon at hand.

He took a deep breath and sighted on the nearest turret operator, knowing if he killed one in the front, the others would notice. With the back of the Brutes head filling the center of his sights, he opened fire.

Thunder came from the forest as one, then two, then four targets fell as he and the Ultra Elite cut down the fire. Within seconds, both plasma cannons were silent, and both guards were dead.

Taking the lead, the Senior Chief hopped over the small ridge, and slid down the slope, shotgun pointed outward. Reaching the valley floor, he absorbed the impact and quickly swept the area for threats. There were plenty of them, but none fo them seemed to take notice of the Spartan next to four dead soldiers.

Softly landing next to him, the two Elites came and secured his position. One ran quickly over to the two vacant Shades, and dropped a plasma grenade in each housing. He sprinted away from them as both explosives went off together, twin blue clouds crushing the cannons.

The three breachers braced themselves to rush the door. "Try to keep up, Human." Sneered one Elite. They then charged as one towards the opening, contrails of shells and beam trails flying overhead.

The Master Chief and Ultra Elite did a fine job of spearing down outlying Covenant before anyone took notice of the group of three charging towards the beleaguered station. The Chief emptied several magazines into Covenant troops who had wandered off or were isolated from other members of the attack force.

There were still hundreds of soldiers here, though. "Human, we cannot kill them all from up here!" The Ultra yelled to the Spartan between his own shots.

Even still, they would have to keep shooting until the Senior Chief secured the hatch. Which, from the Master Chief's scope, might not that far off. He looked like he was just standing there, waiting for the Elites, who were easily fifty feet behind him.

"I thought you told me to keep up?" Michael said to the shorter Elite who had issued the challenge.

The said Elite merely grunted, and sidestepped to the right hand side of the hatch. Blue four stepped in front of it to cover his teammate. "Commander, we have reached the entrance. Make your way to our position, and be swift." He said into his mike.

A crackle of static answered him, then came his leader's throaty voice. "Very well, Kire, we come to you now. Hold the gate, let no one enter." The signal snapped off quickly and the three soldiers who dared to be outside the besieged facility took their positions.

Taking a knee, the Senior Chief checked his shotgun, insured it was loaded, then removed the safety. He chinned a control in his helmet and a small blue arrow appeared over the Master Chief's position. Once he had marked the Chief, he panned left and right, looking for any targets foolish enough to rush them.

Blue five, Kire Sankumee, raised his weapon. The plasma rifle had a full charge, and could with a pull of the trigger fire out a storm of blue death. He smiled at thoughts of blood soaked claws and hole filled bodies.

Casting a tentative glance at the demon next to him, he pondered his position. Since the agreement to cease hostilities between his forces and the humans, things changed greatly. No longer could his brethren simply charge headlong into battle. These humans insisted on forming strategies and coming up with ideas. Did they not realize that battles must be fought, not thought about?

At the very least, despite their shortcomings, they fought with a passion and skill that rivaled his own kind. True, they lacked the strength, speed, and shielding, but they were very quick learners, and could improvise new tactics on the fly. And they fought with such a tenacity that he was taken aback. He had witnessed a Marine empty his weapon into a pack of Jackals, and then rush them weaponless. He attacked with such speed that he managed to get a hold of one of the buzzards and crush his head under his fist. He fell seconds later, but managed to activate a grenade, and kill all five remaining Jackals.

'Too bad that they had not had the chance to join the Covenant', he had thought. True, vermin that they were, they managed to fight the entire Covenant to the bitter end, inflicting untold casualties. If they joined their ranks, then they would have been an awesome force, indeed.

His thoughts were cut short as the Demon's leader and his commander broke into he open and sprinted to join them. Raising his weapon, he scouted for targets. Something was unusual about this. Aside from the warriors killed by their sniping, no other Covenant rose to challenge the small squad. He squinted his eyes, looking for something, anything to shoot at.

And was rewarded. A trio of Brutes rounded the corner and came running towards their position. His delicate eyes saw them long before the apes spotted him.

"Demon! Brutes!" Kire barked to the Spartan, who turned and quickly advanced in front of the Elite. 'The audacity! He dares to take this enemy from me,' Kire thought, and withdrew a plasma grenade from his grenade compartment. Activating the small device, he took a step forward and hurled it as hard as he could.

The azure bomb flew through the dusty air and right past the Brute formation. They stopped and turned to watch the bomb land behind them, then dove off in separate directions. The grenade detonated as each Brute landed safely outside the blast.

"Idiot!" The Spartan yelled as he advanced through the haze. 'That damned Elite just gave away our surprise,' he thought as he moved forward. Pumping the shotgun, he fed a fresh shell into the chamber and cautiously walked to the site of the explosion. 'Alright, Brute, where did you go?'

Sweeping the gun, he crouched low as he heard the aliens talking to one another.

"Where did it come from?"

"I shall kill them all!"

"Cowards!"

Creeping to the sounds of the three, the Senior Chief was rewarded with finding them. That they were all bunched up was good news, but the real joy was that the Captain, his banner mounted on his back, was turned away from him.

Taking his hand off the trigger, he made a fist and brought it down on the base of the Brutes neck, breaking it and separating it from his spine. Before the body had even fell he grabbed the shotgun's handle and brought it to bear on the remaining enemies.

He quickly fired off three blasts into the nearest Brutes chest, then lashed out and kicked it in its doubled over head. The beast tumbled over, its own blood spilling in the air behind him. As he shifted the gun to fire on the last brute, the hulk through down his weapon and prepared to slam down the human.

Dropping to one knee, the Spartan lifted the barrel and fired on the Brutes incoming fist. The wall of 8 gauge shot disintegrated the apes hand, and a second shot removed half of his face.

Insuring that he was dead, the Spartan scrounged a couple of grenades, and jogged back to the captured entrance. Encountering no more resistance, he arrived in less than twenty seconds. Walking to the Elite who had thrown the device, the Spartan got face to face with him.

Ignoring that his superior was here, he spoke his mind. "Next time, why don't you throw yourself at them? It would save us a lot of trouble and only one less Elite. There's plenty of you to go around." He stood with less than half a foot between his faceplate and the Elite.

"Bold words, Human. Only fitting that you should envy our superior race, instead of the dogs your kind are." Kire replied in kind to the armored human.

"Hey, you have something on your face," the Spartan then said, then swung his fist with all his might. Discipline forgotten, his armored connected square on the Elites left side jaws.

Reeling backward from the surprise blow, Kire was shocked at how forceful the punch had been. His shields took the brunt of the blow, but if they had been off, his left mandibles would easily have been broken. His anger swelled and he dropped his plasma rifle and withdrew his stowed energy blade.

The air in front of him cracked as the beam sprung to life, slicing the air into sections. Stepping forward to cut down this fool, he was stopped by his commander.

"Close that blade, warrior! This is no time for fights amongst ourselves! You almost compromised our entire mission. Be grateful I do not kill you where you stand." Taka Naharmee, one of the few remaining Ultra Elites, had no tolerance for error. Especially in his own hand picked SpecOps soldiers.

Raging at the indignity, Kire deactivated his weapon and placed it on the recharging racks of his armor. Eyeing the Spartan, he slowly picked up his plasma rifle and turned back, and with the other SpecOps Elite, began to make his way inside the facility.

Facing the Senior Chief, John made his own statement. "Soldier, this is unlike you. I need you clear and focused. You are not acting like a Spartan. Marines have more control than you just had. Get it together, or you're going back to the _Rainmaker_. Is that clear, Senior Chief?"

Nodding, he activated his acknowledgment signal. "Yes, sir, I understand, sir. It isn't easy to trust these Elites after so many years of fighting them."

"I can sympathize, Chief, but you need to keep it together. Fact is you're one of the last Spartans. That speaks volumes for you. Don't let it mean nothing." John said to him after a second, and then he, too, headed inside the compound.

Mike stood and contemplated the Chiefs words for a minute, then made eye contact with the Ultra, who was still standing there. After a moment, the two of them marched into the facility.

The team stormed through the base, eliminating small Covenant seek and destroy teams, and leaving many sections of the base blood soaked and hole ridden. Taking the time necessary to remove slain Convert and UNSC personnel from their resting places, and moving their bodies to safer locations. They found ammo and weapons on corpses and added many more to the totals.

After nearly an hour of running through the base, they had discovered several still manned and friendly weapon emplacements and set up a few more. They then rounded up as many survivors as they could and took them towards the rear of the base on what appeared to be a freight rail. They found it led to a massive hangar like space.

Taking a head count of the troops arrayed before him, the acting commander, the Master Chief, noted his resources: 22 conventional Marines, 23 ODST Marines, 87 Grunts, 6 Hunter pairs, and maybe thirty Elites, counting the SpecOps team, plus him and the Senior Chief.

Additionally, there were the eight or so Marines and fifteen Grunts manning the turrets around the base.

As he prepared to dispense his orders, a wounded Marine came through on the freight train. "Sir," he shouted, "A Covenant landing ship is heading this way!"

The Master Chief had studied the intel on the new landing ships when the Converts had sided with the Humans. They were massive, ovoid ships with retracting blast doors that could conceal two hundred Covenant infantry, and up to four Wraiths. He did the math in his head and realized this would nearly double the strength of the current Covenant army.

To make matters worse, the landing ships were heavily armed, by Covenant standards. They were designed in anticipation of taking Earth, so they had to pack a punch. Eight single firing heavy plasma cannons, on independent turrets. Twelve rapid firing light plasma cannons on independent turrets. And to top it off, four big Fuel Rod projectors for vehicle defense.

It would be like fighting a small battleship.

The soldiers in the hangar all faced him. They waited for him to give his orders. As he watched all those battle hardened faces, there was only one order he could think of.

"Prepare yourselves! We're going to kill every single Covenant soldier we find!"

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Well, there is chapter 3. Sorry for the long wait, but I have been rather busy lately. Let me know what you think. Anything you liked, didn't like, or wanted to see? Drop me a line and let me know. Thanks for reading!


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